


Five things that Never Happened to Naoe Nagi

by Daegaer



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Weiß Kreuz
Genre: 5 Things, AU, Crossover, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-31
Updated: 2004-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 04:16:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer





	Five things that Never Happened to Naoe Nagi

1.

It was now or never, Nagi thought. The leadership of Eszett was gone, his team-mates were busy about the task of killing Weiss. If he did it now, he could get away. He stepped behind a pillar and watched the others for a last moment. They fought beautifully, a team well used to each other, trusting every member to do their job well. This was how he'd remember them.

Farfarello finished slamming his opponent's head into a pillar and let the body crumple to the ground. Now the last Weiss stood alone, facing Crawford. Nagi took a breath. Farfarello was idly kicking the body of the downed Weiss, Crawford was busy, and wouldn't notice anything. Nagi turned to face Schuldig, and gave him a little smile. The man looked exhausted, Nagi thought in pity as Schuldig wiped a hand across his face and grinned back at him, blue eyes shadowed and tired. Before he could change his mind he swept Schuldig's feet from under him and slammed the side of his head down into the floor. It was quick. It had to be, unless he wanted the alarm raised. All the sly humour went from Schuldig's face, all his good ideas and sarcastic jokes now just so much cooling meat. Farfarello turned and wasted half a second looking at Schuldig's hair, now stained a darker red with blood. Nagi broke his neck and let him fall. Then he stepped out from his hiding place and walked up to the last fight.

"Fujimiya," he said, "why don't you just fuck off and _die_?"

Fujimiya Aya jumped back, keeping an eye on both him and Crawford. Nagi sighed. He was still Schwarz. A block detached itself from the ceiling and fell. Fujimiya looked up too late. Crawford caught Nagi's eye and laughed, and Nagi knew he couldn't just wordlessly kill him. Shame at the thought of Crawford realising the others' fate overcame him, and he reached out and snapped his spine, lowering him very gently to the ground.

"Nagi," Crawford said in shock, "I've been shot! Be careful!"

Nagi knelt beside him. This was his team leader. He deserved an explanation.

"I'm going away, Crawford," he said. "I just want to be left alone. I hope you can forgive me."

"Nagi?" Crawford said. "I didn't see this happening. Why didn't I see myself being shot?" He sounded confused but wasn't in pain. That was important.

"You said you needed me," Nagi said quietly. "You all said Schwarz needed me, and I know it's true. But I can't have you with me, I'd be too obvious, and I knew I couldn't leave you when you needed me. It's better like this. Eszett and Weiss – they can't hurt any of you now. You _won_ , Crawford-san."

Crawford was looking at him in bewilderment, as if he hadn't heard a single thing Nagi had said.

"Where's the sniper?" he asked, still looking at Nagi like he was a little boy to be protected. "Get to cover, Nagi. Schuldig will help you."

Nagi stroked Crawford's hair back from his eyes. It always got in his eyes. He never took time for himself, not even to get a damn haircut. He wiped his own eyes on his sleeve and picked up Crawford's gun.

"Goodbye, Brad," he whispered, and pulled the trigger.

Naoe Nagi walked out into the dawn. He didn't know what he'd do now. It didn't matter. No one was depending on him any more. He was free.

 

* * *

 

2.

"Tot. Don't fight, Tot. If you do, you'll die."

She shook her head, and he knew her mind was made up.

"After we kill Weiss, Nagi, let's live together!" she said, her voice high pitched and happy.

Nagi's heart constricted and he looked at the ground in despair. She'd fight and she'd die, and it wasn't _fair_. He should tell her Crawford's plan, he thought, and immediately felt sick at the idea of going against his team. He looked up, an idea coming to mind. Crawford. Tot thought a lot of men in authority, and as far as she knew Crawford was an ally.

"Tot," he said, putting every gram of sincerity into his voice that he could. "You _mustn't_ fight. Crawford _told_ me that if you did you'd die. He told me to tell you to leave the fighting to the others. Schwarz will help Schreient fight, and I'm to look after you."

"Really?" she asked, her eyes going round in surprise. "Crawford-san said that?"

"Yes," Nagi said. "Yes, he did."

"Then I'll stay with you!" she cried, and flung her arms round him. It was an effort, but he made himself hug her back. It felt good, and he held on tight. When she kissed him again it felt even better, and he was a lot more sure of himself. She was the one who pulled back blushing this time.

"Tot," he said, thinking fast, "we should get right away from here. Who knows what Weiss will do?"

"OK, Nagi-kun," she said, and let herself be led away from the house, away from the destruction of her team.

Nagi felt light-hearted and cheerful as they ran through the forest, hand-in-hand.

 

*

Within two months she was pregnant. Nagi kept them moving, afraid to settle in any place and wait for Schwarz to catch up to them. They'd have to stop running eventually, he knew. Tot would need to see doctors, go into hospital.

He'd tried to be honest, tried to earn money like a normal person. But no one wanted to hire a fifteen-year-old boy for more than a part time job, and the pay was laughable. Tot had no idea of economy, and ran through money like water. Nagi had little idea of economy either, having never had to think about such things. But he knew they had to make what they had last. He couldn't risk drawing money from his accounts, the others would be watching for that. All he had was what he had withdrawn in the first day, and the money he'd made since.

Nagi stood at the street corner and smiled at the businessmen passing by. Sure enough, one of them eventually stopped. Nagi ran his eyes up and down him slowly. He'd do. The moment the man followed him into a darkened corner Nagi made him slam into the wall, and let him slide down, stunned. His nice watch, his nice wallet and his nice laptop were all quickly gathered up. Nagi let the bastard keep his wedding ring.

Running from the scene, Nagi told himself that he'd _chosen_ this. He had to stick with it because he'd chosen it. Tot needed him, and he needed her, although not for the reasons she wanted. The look on her face when he slapped her for whining assured him that he still had some measure of control over _something_ in his life.

Things would get better, he thought. Once they had enough money and she had enough sense not to spend it all and the baby was born they'd all be OK. They just had to get there, that was all.

He just had to make sure he didn't kill her before then.

 

* * *

 

3.

"I've changed my mind," Nagi said, looking at the schoolchildren milling round the platform. "I don't want to do this."

Crawford looked around at the crowd as if he hadn't heard a subordinate make an embarrassing statement. Nagi heaved an angry sigh and stared down at the platform between his feet.

"Cheer up, you'll be with people your own age for once," Schuldig said.

"I hate people my own age," Nagi muttered. "This is stupid. I can't believe we're going ahead with this contract."

"I thought you wanted a new computer?" Crawford said. "Don't you want to get paid?"

"We have enough money," Nagi said.

"There's no such thing," Schuldig said idly. "It's all part of the overall plan, anyway."

 _Fuck the overall plan_ , Nagi thought, and Schuldig grinned.

"Your luggage is aboard," Crawford said, "and you have your ready cash. Everything will look fine."

"I want my computer with me," Nagi said hopelessly.

"You know it won't work. Look, there he is. Remember, surveillance only. Our backers want a careful eye kept on that boy. And speak English, we're getting some attention."

Nagi looked up at Schuldig flicking his hair back over his shoulder, the red gleaming against the dark cloth of his coat, at Crawford in his pale suit looking like Our Man in Havana, and thought of the way Farfarello had been stalking round among the schoolchildren, an evil expression on his face. They'd had to send him shopping to divert him.

"I don't think it's speaking Japanese that's attracting attention," he muttered, and casually looked over to where Crawford had indicated. Yes, that was him, the picture had been perfectly accurate for once. He let his gaze slide over the group of red-heads the target was with, committing every flick of the target's head, the unruly black hair, the bright green eyes shielded by glasses and the distinctive scar to memory. The target turned and saw him, so Nagi nodded politely, getting an off-hand nod in return.

"This is all I could get," Farfarello said, coming up to them. He held out a plastic bag to Nagi. Inside were sandwiches, crisps and chocolate. Kid food, Nagi thought in disgust. _Train station_ food. Damn.

"You _are_ a kid," Schuldig said cheerfully. "Don't you want to fit in?"

"I want proper food in a proper hotel during a proper job," Nagi said. "I can leave at Christmas, right?"

"If everything's wrapped up," Crawford said in English. "It's about to go. Get on board."

 _Nagi,_ , Schuldig said in his mind, _one of Potter's friends is looking at you wondering if you're Chinese or Japanese. Be a nice little stereotype for the audience._

"Crap," Nagi said respectfully in Japanese, and bowed.

Crawford put a hand on his shoulder, smiling, for all the world like he was bidding a fond farewell to his little boy.

"Don't fuck up," he said.

Nagi turned away and climbed onto the train. The corridor was filled with kids, all pushing their way into carriages. Nagi looked at the seats full of puling brats and shuddered, hurrying along to the carriage where the target was. He opened the door and stood there, irresolute, the perfect image of the new boy.

"Excuse me," he said quietly, letting his accent get a bit stronger, "may I sit here?"

The kids all looked up at him, and he smiled politely and shyly. They exchanged glances with each other.

"Who are you?" one boy asked. Ron Weasley, the file had said. He had bright red hair, and Nagi decided to hate him on principle.

"Naoe Nagi," he said. _What the hell_. He bowed. "I'm new."

"New?" the target said. "What school have you been in?"

"Rosenkreuz," Nagi said. "It's not a school like Hogwarts."

"So why are you on this train?" Weasley asked, more belligerently than Nagi felt the situation warranted.

"I got a letter offering me a place," he said vaguely. "My guardian thought I should accept."

"You're a lot older than new students usually are," the girl said. "Why did you get a letter _now?_ "

Nagi pulled out the pretty stick he'd been given and looked scared and proud at the same time. "Wingardium leviosa," he said, pointing it at the girl and raising her off her seat.

She squeaked and looked both furious and fascinated as he lowered her gently again.

"How did you -- you've never been at a school for wizards?"

"Yeah," the red head said, "it takes a lot of practice to be able to lift anything that heavy -- oh, hey, Hermione, I didn't mean --"

"What did you say your name was?" the target asked, shoving a cat basket aside to clear a space on the seat opposite him.

"Naoe Nagi," Nagi said, making himself comfortable.

"Noee?" the target said, frowning.

"Naoe."

"So where are you from, Nooeh?" the red head asked.

"Naoe. Japan. And call me --"

"His first name's _Nagi_ ," the girl said, interrupting him. "Japanese names have the surname first."

Nagi decided that calling her a pushy bitch wouldn't be productive, and smiled at her like he was very grateful to find someone who knew all about his interesting, exotic culture. "That's right," he said brightly. "Your name's Hermione?"

She looked at him very straight, and Nagi cursed himself for laying it on too thick. He went back to looking shy, he had plenty of practice at that.

"Hermione Granger," she said. "That's my cat Cruickshanks beside you. Do you have an animal with you?"

"No," he said, frowning in annoyance. "Should I have?"

"You can if you want," Weasley said. "Harry and me've got owls."

"See?" the target said, lifting a cover from what had seemed to be a pile of luggage and revealing cages with owls in them. Nagi didn't have to fake a look of surprise. He'd never seen an owl outside of a zoo.

"I should have asked my guardian," he said.

"Was that him saying goodbye to you?" Granger said.

"Yes," Nagi said, and watched them try to find a way of asking why Crawford wasn't Japanese. "He was a friend of my parents," he said. "After they -- well, he's been very kind to me. He went to the same school as them." They were all looking at him with embarrassed sympathy and he looked down with just a touch of stoic sadness.

"You're lucky you had someone good to look after you," the target said, and his voice was clearly envious. Nagi smiled bravely and wondered if he'd get away with claiming Crawford was his godfather. No need, he thought, the target was touched enough by their tragic similarities already.

"He was the guy in the suit?" Weasley asked. "Who were the others?"

"Oh," Nagi said, wishing that just once Schuldig and Farfarello would blend in to the background, "Schuldig - the man with the red hair - he's . . . well, he's my guardian's, um, _friend._ Farfarello's his cousin." He thought his air of defiant nonchalance was a nice touch and watched gleefully as they looked blank and then blushed and pretended that they didn't want to ask prurient questions. The thought of Schuldig's annoyance warmed him, and he decided that he'd invent new confidences for the kids to worm out of him.

By the time the train really picked up speed the target and Weasley were deep in a discussion about their school's sports teams, and he found he had only Granger to deal with. He decided to get her on his side. She seemed intelligent and was definitely interested in his foreign status. She might be a useful ally for him. Besides, Western girls were easy.

"This is all very new to me," he said humbly. "Are the teachers very strict?"

"Some of them are," she said. "But if you do your homework and don't mess up in class you should be all right. Were the teachers at your old school strict?"

"Yes," Nagi said with absolute truthfulness. "Very. I was awfully glad when holidays came around and I could travel with my guardian."

"Oh?" she said, "where did you go? What does he do?"

"He's a security consultant, in computers," Nagi said. "I wish I could have brought my computer with me."

"Me too," Granger sighed, and looked a lot more friendly. "Where does he work?"

"All over," Nagi said vaguely. "We were in Dubai last Christmas, and we've been all across Europe. And in Tokyo quite often."

"Really?" She looked impressed. "Are you from Tokyo?"

"Yes," Nagi said, and at the same moment the door into the corridor opened with a slam. He carefully held his reactions under control and looked up at the newcomers, a fair-haired boy with a pointed face and two large boys flanking him. There was an extensive file on the blond boy, with the instruction that he was not to be harmed. This was one of their backers' little boy, Nagi thought. A fool who knew nothing. Nagi looked at the expressions on the other's faces and decided that instructions or no, harming the fair haired boy would be beneficial to his cover.

"Please could you shut the door," he said politely. "There's a draught."

"I'll shut it when I want," the boy said with a sneer.

"But he's right, Draco," one of the bigger boys said. "There's a little bit of a nip in here."

"Ignore them," Granger said in disgust as Nagi stood up, absolute delight running through him at the thought that by schoolboy logic he now _had_ to beat the shit out of these kids. He remembered to pull out the wand, mentally slapping the other boys' hands away from theirs as he did so. "Pellere," he said calmly and flung them all back through the door at once. It was a very tight fit, two of the boys being rather large. Nagi hoped it was extremely painful. They hit the far window with dull thuds and then slammed into the floor rather more forcefully than they'd probably been expecting. Nagi followed them out, shaking off Granger's hands. He picked the blond boy up by the front of his robes.

"If you or your people ever say that to me again," he said in a bored voice, "I will break your neck. Do you understand?"

"Let go," the boy whimpered.

"Nagi! You can't let a teacher see you fighting," the target hissed from the doorway. "Leave Malfoy squirming on the ground where he belongs and come back in here."

"OK," Nagi said, glaring down at Malfoy. "One word out of you and you know what you'll get." There were face saving mutters behind him as he went back into his compartment, so he knocked the three boys down again.

"That was _great!_ " Weasley said, an excited smile on his face. "And you've only just started learning magic?"

Damn, Nagi thought. So much for not drawing attention to himself.

"My guardian sent me for private tuition over the summer," he said, and hoped no one would ask for names. Luckily Weasley and the target were too involved in gleefully going over the expression on Malfoy's face when he exited the compartment at high speed. Nagi breathed easier and wondered what he'd do about the _ugh, another monstrous teenage boy_ expression on Granger's face. He looked at her ruefully, as if he were embarrassed by his lack of control.

"They shouldn't have said that," he muttered. A touch of defensiveness, he thought. "I got enough of that in my last school. My family arrangements didn't help either."

As he'd hoped she looked more sympathetic faced with a victim of racism and bigotry. _Western liberals_ , he thought scornfully as the target shoved a bag of sweets into his face. _So bloody easy._ He sat back, chewing an oddly-flavoured assortment of sweets, and smiled at them all. Really, if making friends was so simple he didn't know why he hadn't bothered before.

 

* * *

4.

Nagi sprinted along the corridor, hearing the feet behind him getting closer and closer.

"He's planning on climbing up a drainpipe to the next floor! One of you, up the stairs!" he heard Berger yell.

Despairingly, Nagi changed plans and just opened the first door he came to, skidding into a dusty, disused bedroom. He jammed a chair under the handle and looked round in terror. It wouldn't hold them for more than a moment. There was only one hiding place, which meant it wasn't a hiding place at all, but blank fear had overcome Nagi's sense and so he dived into the old-fashioned wardrobe, mentally slamming the door behind him. His momentum should have bounced him off the back of the wardrobe, but it didn't.

He landed on his hands and knees in pristine, powdery snow.

The sky was dark blue, edging slowly towards a pale brightness, and the sun was barely visible above the trees. Nagi stared around, open-mouthed. It looked like the view from the highest windows in Rosenkreuz, quiet, cold and beautiful. He got to his feet, shivering as a light breeze stirred up the snow on the ground. He was quite alone. He was quite mad, he thought. This was one of Berger's tricks; the older boy delighted in confusing his victims' minds, making them see things that didn't exist. Any second now, he'd be dragged from his hiding place.

He waited. After he'd watched the sun rise higher and the birds began to fluff up their feathers and begin the day's search for food, he started walking. His gym-shoes were soon soaked through, and the cold was gnawing its way through his thin indoor clothes. He stopped as he heard something, and stepped behind a tree. Bells. It sounded like bells. The noise grew louder and a sledge came into view, drawn by a pair of snow-white little reindeer with golden antlers. Their harnesses were scarlet leather, and their hooves were gilded. Little golden bells on the harness chimed and jingled. The sledge was being driven by a very small man dressed in white furs and a scarlet velvet hood that exactly matched the colour of the harness. Sitting at her ease in the sledge was a tall woman, dressed in a coat of fur so white that Nagi's eyes hurt to look at it, a golden crown upon her head and a golden wand held loosely between her long white fingers. She was beautiful, and had a cold, arrogant expression on her face, exactly like those of the instructors'. As the sledge went past she turned her head and looked straight at him.

"Stop!" she cried, and the driver pulled the reindeer up cruelly, the bits in their mouths hauling their heads back. They shook their heads, and drops of scarlet-flecked foam fell to the snow.

"You!" the woman called. "What are you?"

"Me?" Nagi said, stupidly.

"Yes! What are you?"

Nagi stepped out fully. There seemed little point in trying to hide.

"I'm Naoe Nagi," he said, wondering what he should call her. "I'm a telekinetic and an empath."

She looked at him in blank silence, and he wondered if he should give her his rating.

"Are you a human?" she asked finally.

"Yes!" Nagi said, stung, and her cold proud face softened.

"You poor child! How cold it is! Come here and sit with me, come, come."

Nagi warily came forward and let her take his arm in her pale hand. She drew him into the sledge and pulled the fur coverlet about him snugly.

"Are you a queen?" he asked, eyeing the tall, golden crown. It might be best to humour her, especially as she had so far given no hint she was a telepath.

"You don't know the Queen of Narnia?" she asked, a thin layer of amusement over deep frost.

"I'm new here," he said. "I haven't been in Germany long."

"This is Narnia, child," she said. "How did you come here?"

Nagi smiled at her shyly, thinking quickly. Surely an instructor would have made themselves known by now. She seemed to think he was younger than he really was, and he concentrated on looking small and helpless.

"I don't know," he said, "I was hiding in a wardrobe, and the back wasn't there - I found myself in the snow."

"A door between the worlds," she said in great satisfaction. "Are you hungry, child?"

Nagi was always hungry, but he knew better than to take food from strangers.

"No, thank you," he said politely.

"Are you sure?" she said, pulling a little copper bottle from her coat, and dropping a single drop of liquid to the snow. With a hissing sound a heavy cup studded with jewels appeared. The driver jumped down and handed it to her with a bow. She sipped at its steaming contents, smiling at him. She looked like she hadn't had much practice. Nagi stared at her, and she handed it to him. He frowned, then as the moments went past and she showed no ill effects, he raised it to his lips and drank. It was deliciously sweet and warming. There were too many sensations, he thought, feeling the fur tickle him, the hot liquid slide pleasantly down his throat, the cold beat against his exposed face, hearing the creak of snow-laden branches, the lovely low voice of the woman who called herself a queen, the stamping of the reindeer's little hooves and the jingling of their bells, seeing all the different things moving smoothly and naturally. No telepath could keep this level of illusion up for so long.

"Your Majesty," he said politely. "Have you ever heard of Eszett? Of Rosenkreuz?"

"No, child," she said. "Won't you have something to eat, and then we can talk?"

She raised the little bottle again, and Nagi shook his head, excitement rising within him.

"Do you know where Germany is? Japan? America? China?"

"They must be far beyond the borders of the world," she said, smiling easily. "Does anyone from your world know you have come here?"

Nagi smiled sweetly and innocently at her, and jumped out of the sledge. She and the driver blinked in surprise.

"Your Majesty! Keep me here, in Narnia, and I'll work for you," he said.

She laughed, and the sound was like ice cracking.

"But what need do I have of a child's service? Get back in the sledge."

Nagi felt he could almost giggle with pleasure. He gestured extravagantly, there being no harm in letting her think he _needed_ to do so, and lifted the little driver high in the air before breaking his neck and tossing him down in the snow.

"You need a driver," he said.

"How --?" she said, her lovely cold face a little pink with surprise.

"My name is Nagi," he said, "I'm a telekinetic. I don't want to go back to Germany and I'm sure I'd be useful, your Majesty. Great Queens deserve servants like me."

She regarded him with suspicion, then waved him to the driver's seat.

"We will talk more of this when we have reached my house," she said.

Nagi flicked the driver's whip for show, and gave the reindeer a mental slap on their haunches. They jumped forward, and he clung to his seat, laughing quietly to himself. He was free of Rosenkreuz. This Narnia place could hardly be worse.

 

* * *

 

5.

The journey to Mars was horrible, and Nagi was sick almost the whole way. When the ship's bells indicated it was night, he slipped and slid his way down to steerage. The heavy metal shoes clicked loudly as the magnets touched the floor when he climbed the steep and narrow stairs, each step a real effort to take. He was sharing a tiny space with Farfarello, who also could not pass for a gentleman. There were two other men sharing the tiny cabin with them, who sniffed loudly about the low standard an American gentleman seemed to accept when it came to servants. They, the ship's crew and the other steerage passengers stared at Nagi, and talked about him as if he did not speak English. Sometimes they'd ask Farfarello.

"Hey, Paddy, why've you got a Chinaman with you?"

If they were lucky, Farfarello was in a mood to speak. If they were really lucky he was in a mood to be polite. Few people asked him anything more than once.

It was a relief when the ship's bells signalled morning, and Nagi could drag himself, dizzy and feeling sick, back up from steerage to the cabin Crawford and Schuldig shared, so he could do the things that servants apparently did. Schuldig had enjoyed ordering him to lay out clothes at first, but the novelty had at last worn off. Now it was his job to physically pull Schuldig out of bed in time to go and have breakfast. His stomach turned over at the thought of food, and he made his ungainly way through the ship's corridors, keeping his eyes on the floor.

"Still sick?" Crawford asked as he crept into their cabin. As usual, he was up and dressed before Nagi reached their cabin, and was carefully pinning his narrow string tie down to his shirt.

Nagi didn't say anything, he didn't even trust himself to nod. The ship's doctor had been of little use to him, beyond giving him foul tasting draughts and telling him to rest as much as possible.

"It cannot be much longer," Schuldig said, unhooking the safety net and slithering out of his bed before Nagi could take out his misery on him. "We have been travelling for so long."

Nagi looked at him in annoyance, thinking they were barely halfway through the journey, and looked away quickly, the dizziness getting worse at the sight of Schuldig's hair floating in a wild, red halo around his head.

"We've been thinking about your problem," Crawford said. He opened the false bottom in one of his bags and withdrew his revolver, unloading it quickly. "Here. Move it around." He let it go and it floated in front of Nagi's face.

Nagi swallowed and imagined the pistol sinking to the floor, then moving over to the wall. It had barely begun to move before Crawford gave him one of the sturdy paper bags all cabins were equipped with. When he stopped vomiting, Nagi looked up at their expectant faces.

"It felt really wrong," he said hoarsely. "It made me even dizzier."

"I told you," Schuldig said triumphantly to Crawford, turning back to the mirror where he was attempting to tame his hair with clips and a wide, black ribbon. "I told Crawford it was your abilities. You'll be fine once we have arrived."

"That's still weeks away, and he's getting worse," Crawford said. "We'll keep you quiet in our cabin as much as we can, but you have to be able to move round the ship. We were just lucky when you were sick first, Nagi, no one noticed your activities because they were all feeling ill themselves."

Nagi sighed. He'd been so disoriented when the weightlessness had started. Luckily no one in steerage had been believed about the safety equipment suddenly breaking loose from the walls and bouncing around.

"I want you to take these," Crawford said, holding out a bottle. "Take two now."

"What are they?" Nagi asked.

"They're from our friends in Germany. They'll suppress your abilities a little. I didn't want to use them before, but it looks like we're not going to be troubled on this journey."

"Farfarello goes down to the boiler room all the time, talking about hell. He gets into fights," Nagi said.

"As long as he doesn't use knives," Crawford said. "Anyway, I'm not asking _him_ to take these, and you're not to try to help him in fights."

Nagi swallowed two of the large pills, and lay down on Schuldig's bed, pulling the safety netting across him like a blanket. After a while he felt as if someone had stuffed his brain with cotton wool, unhooked the netting and sat up cautiously.

"Stay lying down," Crawford said, "we'll check on you after breakfast."

"Don't forget to make the beds," Schuldig said with a grin.

*

The trip didn't seem quite so bad after that, although he had a headache behind his eyes that never once lifted. Everything seemed at one remove, and if people noticed his existence at all they muttered darkly about opium.

When they were on their descent, and things began to have weight again, Crawford did not allow him to return to steerage and the safety of his own narrow bunk; he rode it out lying in Schuldig's bed, held tight by the German's arms and the safety netting. He thought dimly that it couldn't be very comfortable for Schuldig.

"Don't you worry. And think of the wonderful scandal, ja? Some crewman looks in here and has all their suspicions about Continentals _and_ Orientals confirmed. Go to sleep, Nagi."

When he opened his eyes again he felt like he weighed the right amount, and the others were already up, busily making sure they had left nothing behind. Farfarello was there too, complaining about how heavy the cases were.

"You made me fall asleep," Nagi said accusingly to Schuldig's back.

"You needed it," Crawford said. "Come on. You'll have to carry some of this."

It wasn't fair, Nagi thought. His headache was still there, he didn't think he could lift anything with his mind and the damn shape of his eyes made him look like a servant to most people.

"Also, the colour of your skin," Schuldig said helpfully. "Exotic gentlemen and exotic servants go together well."

"Who asked you?" Nagi muttered and picked up the lightest bag.

Once they were off the ship, and Crawford had arranged a hotel for them, and the delivery of their chests from the hold to that hotel, Nagi began to feel much more like his old self. The air was hot and dry, a relief after the chill and dampness of the ship, and the colours were bright and cheerful. He followed the others along the road, looking about him at the red stone of the buildings, and the bright green of the carefully watered parks and gardens. It was peaceful and serene, he thought as he looked at the reflection of the huge, slender towers in the broad canal. It was exactly what they needed.

He smiled to himself. Mars didn't know what was about to hit it.


End file.
